


Distractions

by Drazyrohk



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:25:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bot didn't get to Kup's age without knowing just when another bot could use a little distraction...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> *releases the smut into the wild* Go! Be free!

Even when he was crying, Rodimus Prime was beautiful. Even when he was drunk and feeling sorry for himself, he had a sort of radiance that couldn’t be ignored. 

Kup found himself admiring the flaming paint job, the flaring blue optics and the determined but oddly vacant expression on Rodimus’ face as he reclined on his recharge slab. One arm cradled his helm while the other stretched out to hook digits into the seams of a brightly colored hip to steady Rodimus’ frame. 

He wasn’t so old that he couldn’t satisfy, but he was saving his energy for a big finish, which was why he was currently content to let Rodimus do all the work. Kup got to enjoy the view without doing more than letting his charge stay high enough to keep his spike good and hard so that Rodimus could make use of it.

Normally, Kup wouldn’t put up with antics like this, but even he could admit there was a difference between Rodimus’ usual nonsense and the mess of angst he was displaying tonight. Roddy was in pretty bad shape, and not just because he had managed to drink half his weight in high grade. 

Kup knew when someone needed a distraction, and fragging was a great way to burn off a raging case of the drunken blues. This wasn’t the first time he and Rodimus had been physical this way either, though he normally saved this sort of thing for when Roddy was in a good mood. Kup hated the moping and knew the best way to get Rodimus to stop was to just ignore him. Eventually he’d burn himself out.

Shifting with a soft grunt, Kup shivered and let his optics dim. Judging by the way the kid’s valve was clenching, he wasn’t far from overload. Removing his hand from Rodimus’ hip, he reached up and tugged the cygar from his mouth. 

“Need me ta take over?” He asked. 

Shaking his helm, Rodimus clenched his jaw and curled his lip plate, rolling his hips against Kup’s a little harder and faster now. 

Letting out a groan of appreciation, Kup stuck his cygar between his dentae and returned his digits to Rodimus’ hip, shoving himself up on his other elbow. He was ready to let himself crest the wave, but he was willing to wait until Rodimus was done to do so. This was more for the kid’s benefit than his own, but there was no reason he couldn’t get some satisfaction out of it as well.

Making a strangled noise that was half pleasure, half frustration, Rodimus balled one servo into a fist and struck Kup’s chest hard enough to leave paint transfer. 

“Easy there, Rodimus.” Kup said, rubbing his servo over Rodimus’ side in a soothing manner. “You’re doin’ just fine, don’t fight it.” 

He began bringing his hips up every time Rodimus dropped his down, reaching deeper nodes and making him cry out. Kup’s vents hissed as heated air escaped from beneath his plates. 

“That’s it, doin’ great Roddy.” Kup said in encouragement, stroking his hand up and down Rodimus’ side and hushing him gently when he let out a broken sob. “Just let it out, kid.” 

Arching his back, his spoiler rising sharply, mouth hanging open and optics flaring, Rodimus cried wordlessly as overload finally took him. He was even more gorgeous this way, caught up in his ecstasy. Kup pushed his hips up a bit, enjoying the clenching of Rodimus’ valve and the hot lubricant that made its way down to make an even bigger mess of his array. 

Jerking his hips raggedly, Rodimus panted open mouthed and dragged his digits down Kup’s scraped chassis. It was a long overload, a good one from the look of things, and Kup waited patiently for Roddy’s spoiler to sag and the bright frame to slump forward a bit before speaking again.

“How’s your head?” He asked, shifting his cygar from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Spinning.” Rodimus said, optics flickering as he tried to focus on Kup.

“I don’t doubt it. You finished?” Kup offered Rodimus a brief smile, and when he nodded in reply, the old mech chuckled. “Good. You mind if I do the same?” 

“Wanna feel it.” Rodimus muttered, still beautiful despite his fatigue. He pressed his palm flat against Kup’s chest plate, thumb tracing along one of the streaks of paint he had left behind. 

“Sure thing.” Kup said, reaching out with both hands and taking hold of Roddy’s hips. A few more short thrusts was all it took to trip his own overload, Kup letting out a low groan as his spike filled Rodimus’ slick valve and added to the mess between them. 

Usually Rodimus would be interested in cuddling once they were both done, but tonight he sat rigidly upright with his optics unfocused. Kup gave himself a moment to catch his breath, then he pushed himself into a sitting position. Rodimus glanced at him, then looked immediately away. 

“You wanna talk to me?” Kup asked, mouth turning down when Rodimus quickly shook his helm. “Alright, we don’t have to.” 

Long years of practice kept his frame ready for another round, just in case Rodimus needed it. One overload didn’t always cut it when the kid was at his lowest, and Kup couldn’t think of the last time he had seen him quite this low.

His cygar burnt itself out as he waited, Kup reaching into his subspace to pull out a fresh one. Rodimus caught his servo before he could stick the cygar in his mouth, Kup blinking at him in surprise. 

Without a word, Rodimus took the cygar in one servo. He lifted the other, observing its trembling for a moment before snapping his digits a few times feebly. Kup watched, trying to hide his growing amusement until finally, flames flickered to life on Rodimus’ hand. 

Using them to light the cygar, Rodimus dragged the smoke from it into his vents deeply. 

“That’s a bad habit, y’know.” Kup murmured, Rodimus finally meeting his optics with a snort.

“Kept you alive all these years, old mech.” He retorted, ex-venting smoke into Kup’s face and making him growl softly. 

“Feeling better now?” Kup asked, taking the cygar away from Rodimus and grunting when he leaned forward and kissed him. 

This was certainly something they didn’t do often. Rodimus wasn’t terribly skilled at it, but the gesture was nice enough. A little too wet, a little too hard, but enough to give Kup’s old frame a bit of incentive to stay heated. 

“Ask me again in an hour.” Rodimus muttered after pulling away. “That is, if you can keep it up that long.” 

“Never question my stamina.” Kup said with a snort of laughter. “I can keep it up as long as you need me to.” 

“I’m holding you to that tonight.” Rodimus said, bracing his hands against Kup’s chest and pushing him back down against the slab. 

“Sure thing, kid.” Kup said, gazing up at Rodimus through the haze of smoke from his cygar. “I ever tell ya how beautiful you are?” 

Rodimus blushed, squirming lightly and looking away. “Don’t make it awkward.” He said, but his field let slip his appreciation for Kup’s words. 

“You’re the one makin’ it awkward. Here I am, ready ta go, and you’re just sittin’ around makin’ me wait.” Kup complained, Rodimus turning to glare at him playfully. 

Their next round had a good deal of playful banter. Kup was distracted enough that he couldn’t tell whether it was a cover, but as long as Rodimus wasn’t moping anymore, he wasn’t going to worry about it.


End file.
